Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas
by Backup Zebo
Summary: Natasha is still full of bad ideas. It's just now she has a tower of people to carry them out with. Yikes. But before any truly awful ideas, one question must be answered: Where is Sparky? Set after AoU, but will only be impacted by certain aspects. All rights to rightful owners. R&R ;)
1. Chapter 1

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #1: Where My Ladies At?**

* * *

Natasha lounged on one of the long leather couches in the tower's living area, the seating was set on a lower level than the rest of the room and gave her a great view of the rest of the room. She could hear Darcy Lewis chatting loudly to Wanda Maximoff at the bar about some reality show or another. Jane Foster was sitting on the edge of her armchair and with her laptop placed on the glass coffee table in front of her, the physicist typed away furiously.

Natasha gave a small smile as she returned her gaze to the guys playing darts. Tony had hung a board on a nearby pillar and many nights filled with darts tournaments had followed. Tonight, only Clint and Tony himself remained. In the days immediately after the purchase of the dartboard, the Avengers quickly realised that the odd were slightly tilted in Hawkeye's favour. Natasha reluctantly pulled herself up off of the cream couch to watch the end of the match. The person with the highest score would win and Clint was up next.

Clint was standing on the opposite side of the room beside the bar. Rhodey, Sam and Steve both stood opposite Clint on the other side of the bar. Tony was busy making cocktails and chatting to everyone near him as Clint readied himself. Natasha sat beside Darcy on a bar stool and leaned back on the ceramic worktop with her elbows holding her up. Darcy and Wanda both gave her a big welcome with she was careful to return.

 _Thud._ Clint's first dart hit the triple twenty. Tony scowled.

"Come _on!_ Seriously, Legolas!"

Clint shrugged exaggeratedly and everyone laughed. Suddenly, Wanda swivelled her stool to face Stark.

"Where's Pepper?" she asked. Darcy followed Wanda's swivel and slapped her palms down on the worktop.

"Yeah! Where are all the other ladies at?!" she demanded. Even Tony smirked at the brunette.

"She had a conference in Chicago this morning. She'll be back later tonight," he answered. Darcy looked to Sam for Hill's whereabouts, Wilson shrugged.

"Wilson! Where's your other BFF?!"

"Maria was busy," he answered as he sipped his beer. Darcy turned to Steve. It seemed only Wanda and Clint noticed Steve and Natasha's fleeting meeting of eyes- the archer paused halfway through reeling back his hand for his second shot to turn his attention to the current conversation. Tony clicked his fingers in front of Steve's blue eyes and Cap's attention was brought back to reality.

"Yo, blondie. Where's Sharon at?" Darcy said, irritated. Steve cleared his throat.

"Uh, busy." The answer was good enough for Darcy but Tony looked suspicious. In the end though, he let it go and turned to Clint.

 _Thud._ Clint's second dart hit the triple twenty. Again, Tony scowled and, again, everyone laughed. Tony sipped his martini.

"What about you, Barton?" he asked. Clint took a slug of his own beer.

"What about me?" Clint asked innocently. He took up his position, ready to hit the triple twenty once more. Natasha reached over the bar for a drink as everyone else looked on, waiting for Clint to win the match.

"Where's your lady ' _at'_?" Tony inquired. Natasha's head snapped around to look at Clint as she heard was the clatter of a dart hitting the slate scoreboard. The others looked at Clint in shock. Barton turned on his heel and headed off toward the elevator, only to instead take the stairs that no doubt led to the roof.

Natasha glanced back at Steve, whose jaw had set tightly. He nodded stiffly at Natasha and she took off after her best friend. She had opened and closed the door leading to the stairwell and had her foot on the first step when something yanked back her elbow. She whirled around and saw Steve standing behind her, a pink stain no doubt from one of Tony's cocktails on his off-white shirt. She held his intense blue gaze until he spoke.

"I knew her too," was all he said. They bounded up the steps together, Natasha always one or two ahead of him. They ran up at least three flights of stairs until they met the heavy metal door that was slightly ajar.

* * *

Clint must have torn up the stairs because he was already leaning with her elbows on the wall on the edge. It was early December and there was a distinct chill in the air, but the only one that could have been affected the worst was Clint, who wore only a short sleeved T-shirt. Yet, he stood at the edge, unbothered by the low temperature. As Natasha stepped toward Clint, Steve made to follow her. However, she stopped him with her hand on his chest. She held up five fingers in response to the reluctant look on his face. Natasha turned her back to Steve and joined Clint by the wall.

Clint did not look at her and gazed onto the streets below while picking at the flaking paint of the wall.

"Look, Tony-"

Clint cut her off. "-Is and idiot. I know that already. Did you miss the whole murderous robot thing last summer?"

He glanced at her and was met by her stern, appraising look.

"Tony," she began, "doesn't know about you and Hennessy. None of them do." Natasha stopped and glanced down and back at Steve.

"About any of us… Nothing was on file. And the most anyone knows about her is that-"

Clint interrupted again and turned his whole body around to face her. His face was lined with sleepless nights, his eyes had dark rings under them. His voice cracked as he spoke

"That's just it! Isn't it! No one knows anything!" He pushed himself away from the wall. "No one knows a damn thing! Not where she is! Not what happened to her! Nothing!"

Clint kicked up and stomped on the gravel underfoot. Suddenly, he started to jump up and down, slamming the soles of his feet into the ground. Natasha stood by Steve and watched. She stopped Steve from interrupting him.

"Let him," she said. Steve looked down at her and gritted his teeth. Clint stopped at last and plopped down onto a forgotten garden chair, he looked completely drained and defeated. Natasha and Steve shared a look and Natasha knelt in front of Clint. She took his hands from where they gripped the edge of the seat. He looked at her, a hollow look in his eyes. Natasha swallowed but her best friend spoke first.

"I promised I'd find her… Natasha, I promised. But there's nowhere left to look." His voice was shaky as he went on. "Where is she, Tasha? What did we miss?"

"I don't know, Clint," she admitted. "But I need to make a call, or twenty." She got up and stood in front of Steve and pulled his shoulder down to her level.

"Get him back to his room, don't let the others see him like this. He doesn't need an audience," she whispered, pressing her lips to his ear. Steve nodded and crossed the roof to pull Clint up. She waited to hear the heavy sound of the metal door closing before pulling out her phone and dialling a number. Natasha rested her elbows on the wall lining the edge and looked up at the stars. She spotted a familiar constellation- Orion- and snapped her head back down as a voice came through the line.

" _Hello?"_

Natasha turned her back on the dazzling lights of the city.

"Hill. I need a number."

" _What?"_ Maria answered. Natasha exhaled through gritted teeth.

"A number. I need one."

" _Whose?"_

Natasha gazed back over her shoulder at the city sprawled out before her.

"Coulson. Get me Coulson."

* * *

 **Hey there! Look at that! A sequel! As you can see, I have chosen to ignore** _ **certain**_ **aspects of AoU, simply because I have my own little universe and let's be honest here, that movie messed it up. I'll leave a list on my Bio in the coming days. But here it is** _ **Worse Ideas**_ **(Name subject to change…) I hope you guys show this one as much love as you did the last!**

 **Before I leave, one last thing. Would anyone like a Christmas special for both this/Bad Ideas and Through the Bottom of a Glass? Leave your answers in the reviews or PM me.**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	2. Chapter 2

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #2: The Ring**

* * *

The room was bare concrete. The only light was cast from two four foot candles encased in glass cases by the door. The door itself was made out of a pale plastic. Three figures were in the centre of the room. One of the figures had both hands chained up over their head, with the chain looped through a hook suspended from the ceiling. Their toes barely grazed the concrete floor. The other two figures stood in front of the prisoner. The candles by the door cast an ominous glow over the room. The shadows made it difficult to see, but it was clear the prisoner was a woman. Her hair was dirty and matted, her face was bruised and her lip burst. She wore a tattered green sweater.

Suddenly, one of the standing figures-both were male- drew their fist back and steered a punch into the stomach of the woman. A barely audible grunt escaped her lips as she rocked back. She glared at the men with contempt in her eyes while they wore ugly sneers on squashed faces. The woman endured this assault daily for the past month, at least that's what she thought it was. She closed her eyes and squeezed them shut as the men took it in turns to punch, kick and spit on her.

Had her hands been free, the woman knew her assailants would never attempt to attack her. However, her hands were bound in rubber cuffs uncomfortably above her head. Her shoulders ached, though this was nothing new, they had been painful for the past six months.

Another hit landed. This time pain exploded in the side of her stomach, the woman let out a strangled groan and she knew instantly that it was a huge mistake. The men smirked and the taller man backhanded the woman's face. Again, the woman rocked back and forth with her hands bound above her head. The woman looked the man straight in the eye and spat out a gob of blood at him. It landed on his shirt.

Once more the smaller man went to hit her, but this time his partner grabbed his forearm tightly as he drew back his arm. They stared at each other and spoke quickly. The woman tried to listen in on their conversation but found that she was too exhausted. Her pulse pounded in her ears and her body hung limply. The men turned to leave and the horrible sound of the thick plastic door grinding open on the concrete floor. The same sound again signalled the close of the door and the departure of the ugly men. But then there came the sound of footsteps and suddenly her face was wrenched up to look into the pig eyes of the taller man. He drew up a thin knife into her eye line. He smiled grotesquely at the fear in her eyes, he was in the room without the knowing of his partner for the men could torture her in any way but they were forbidden to draw blood.

As he brandished the knife somewhat gloatingly, the woman heard a rustling behind her. The man must have heard it too because he jumped back, mistaking the noise for the footsteps of one of his supervisors.

There came another rustling noise, followed by total silence. The woman could hear the breathing of the man as he listened intently for the sound to repeat itself but the next sound that came was not a rustling. The woman recognised it instantly as the sound of a bullet fired from a silenced weapon.

The bullet buried itself between the man's eyes and, virtually instantly, another bullet was fired and she fell in a heap on the ground. The woman struggled to turn around onto her back to look at the vent, but when she had managed it she saw it was empty behind the grate. Gingerly, she clambered to her feet only to come crashing to her knees immediately. She cursed softly as pain flared in her knees, it had been almost three weeks since she had supported her own weight.

The woman leaned over the dead body now lying in front of her and picked up the knife. She looked down into the face of the dead man and felt a stab of misplaced pity for him. Had he pictured this as the way his life would turn out when he was a boy? The woman truly hoped not. She leaned heavily against the wall as she moved towards the door once she reached the handle, she stopped.

Her mind was racing. She had never thought through an escape plan, the idea seemed too hopeful. She did not know who had shot the man, what side they were on or how they had managed to find the base she was held at. Who was waiting for her outside? Are they going to put a bullet between her eyes?

The woman glanced back at the body and the growing pool of blood around it. She decided to try her luck outside of the concrete room. The woman clasped the door handle and pushed it down to open it. It obliged and the woman opened it just enough to squeeze through. She pushed herself through and once again fell to the floor. She was in a long corridor. It was dimly lit-almost black- but the floor was just as cold as it had been in her cell so she guessed it was concrete. The corridor was packed with boxes and crates on both sides.

The woman took hold of one wooden crate and hoisted herself up. As she fought to regain her breath, she became aware of the sound of gunfire and shouted orders. She glanced left down the corridor and glimpsed a silhouette just entering the corridor at the end. The woman started and scrambled into a space between the wooden crate and a tall stack of boxes.

The space was narrow but she fit easily after months of hunger. She held her breath and inched her back to the wall. She heard a great clatter, followed by voices. Then, she could hear one set of footsteps leading off further away from her direction and another set coming closer. She held her breath and clutched the knife tightly to her chest and struggled to formulate a plan. She could either wait to be seen as the person passed or try to disarm them.

She still had not made up her mind by the time the footsteps were just to her left. She could see the toe of a pair of combat boots. As the boots took one step in front of her, the woman flew out from her hiding place. The nature of the surprise attack caused the owner of the boots to drop their weapon. The knife glinted in the dim light as she swung it at the person before her. They deflected her arm and kicked her in the stomach. The woman stumbled back but recovered quickly and launched her own kick. Her heel connected with her opponent's chest with a _thud_ and they stumbled back. She could tell it was a man in the dim light, he was not much taller than her but was strong. The woman slashed at him again but he easily caught her hand and wrenched the blade from her grasp.

The woman whirled into him and dug her elbow into his side. The blow winded him but he was still able to block her next clumsier jabs at him. They traded blows in quick succession but eventually he managed to grab both her arms and wrestled her back against a spot of the wall that was free from any kind of container. She struggled against his grip but could not free herself. Suddenly, the woman had an idea. With both her hands pinned above her head, in one fluent movement, she raised her knees to her chest and booted the man in the chest with all her might.

He went tumbling backwards and the woman took off, her legs carrying her as quickly as they could. She heard something whizz past her side and winced as it grazed her shoulder, assuming it was a bullet she ducked instinctively. Still half running-half limping, the woman met the end of the corridor and burst through a pair of heavy doors. The lights seemed to be working in this particular hallway but she had been kept in candle light for weeks and her eyes burned as they struggled to adjust. She just saw a streak of something red before she was sent sprawling back into the dark hallway she had just left by a seemingly invisible force.

The woman lay sprawled on the ground. The heavy doors now were opened and light flooded into the formerly dim corridor. She squinted her eyes and let out a groan as she pushed herself into a crouch. She was preparing to launch herself back into her first hallway when she looked up and saw the man- now breathing heavily- pointing something peculiar at her. The woman could hear footsteps coming down the brighter corridor. It was over. Her daring escape was going to end with her death.

Without thinking she thrust her left hand out as if to protect herself and surrender at the same time. She could now make out the man's face and could see his expression change from passive to disbelief. On closer inspection, she could see he was holding a bow and arrow. The woman thought she must have finally gone insane, it seemed too good to be true. Yet, she watched as the man lowered his weapon but only to his chest, keeping the arrow knocked. His eyes were fixed on the silver ring on her ring finger. The woman's breath rattled in her lungs. The footsteps behind her had come to an abrupt halt. She looked tiredly up at the archer's face.

"Are you going to shoot me, or not?" she croaked, her throat raw and sore. The man seemed to soften and finally lowered his bow, replacing the arrow in his quiver. He stepped forward, his boots heavy on the concrete and extended a hand toward her. The woman gazed at his calloused hand before she accepted it. She gave a groan as he pulled her up. She watched as he clasped her left hand in both of his. The man raised her hand to his eyes and ran his finger over her ring. She felt him stop where she knew there to be a ' _B'_ etched into the otherwise smooth surface. The man's mouth fell open. The woman watched a mixture of relief and anger flare up in his grey eyes. With her hand still gripped in his, the man looked her straight in the eye.

"Jamie?" he asked. "Volts, is that you?"

Hennessy's legs gave out at last and Clint launched himself to catch her. He glanced down into her face and saw she was unconscious. Clint looked up and saw two gawping faces. Natasha had her guns drawn and Wanda held her hands in front of her in her typical battle ready stance. It had been Wanda's energy manipulation that had forced Sparky back into the corridor he had chased her down. The Sokovian was understandably lost and her expression showed it. Natasha, however, looked on at Clint in her typically stern way, but her eyes showed immense worry and anxiety.

"Is that...? Have we…?" she asked. Clint nodded solemnly but glanced down at Sparky before looking back to Wanda.

"How hard did you hit her?" he asked. Wanda stuttered in her confusion, but Natasha cut her off.

"Get word out to everyone else. Tell them we've got her. Tell them we found Sparky," Romanoff ordered the younger woman. While Wanda contacted the others, Natasha knelt by Hennessy and Clint. She tried to coax him into letting go of Sparky but he would only loosen his grip on her slightly and Natasha could only see Jamie's face fully.

It wasn't good. Her bottom lip had burst, her right cheek was covered in yellow and purple bruises. Hennessy had a nasty looking black eye and her face was awfully gaunt looking with her once light brown hair now matted and almost black. The only other parts of Jamie she could see was a part of her side where there was a slit in the fabric of the worn green sweater and one of her hands. Natasha could just make out a nasty, jagged scar that stretched halfway to her navel. On her right hand, Natasha could make out more scarring. Some scars wrapped around her hand and wrist fully. They were all pale pink in colour. Natasha looked back into her friend's face once more and felt her stomach turn in response to Hennessy's treatment.

Natasha pushed herself back onto her feet when she heard the others approaching. As she turned, she saw Steve standing in front of Tony, decked out in his full Avenger regalia, complete with cowl and patriotic shield. Tony had retracted the faceplate of his armour and looked as confused as Wanda when he saw Clint cradling the body of a woman he had never seen before. As Stark opened his mouth to no doubt unleash a string of questions, Natasha cut him off.

"Are the others by the quinjet?" she asked. Tony nodded but still managed to get a question in.

"Yeah, but care to tell why Legolas is refusing to let go of that strange woman." Steve shot him a look that had ' _shut up'_ written all over it.

"Later, Tony," Steve said sternly. He turned to Natasha and nodded at Clint. "Is she alive?" he asked, showing a great deal more softness in his tone this time. Natasha sighed and nodded.

"For now. But we have _got_ to get her back to base," she commanded. Steve nodded and glanced back at Tony, who glared at them but eventually threw his arms in the air.

"Alright. Barton seems to trust her. And we're clear, base is stormed. Let's go, assholes."

With that, Clint came out of his trance and scooped Hennessy up and set out for the journey back to the jet, following Stark. Steve lingered a little longer, gazing at Natasha as if he had something to say but turned and left silently, giving his head a little shake. Wanda has still standing there in her state of befuddlement.

"W-Who is that?" she asked through her thick accent. Natasha crossed the threshold back into the lighted corridor.

"Later. We'll tell you guys later. Now c'mon, Barton's waited long enough."

* * *

 ***laughs nervously* Hello, it's me. I was wondering if… you'd still read this… :) I would say more but I'm really not feeling great and I'm really tired, sooo…. Leave a review if you like.**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #3:** _ **About**_ **Is Probably a Better Word**

* * *

They jogged back through the winding corridors, up stairs and eventually outside to the quinjet, which switched off its cloaking device once those inside saw them coming. The loading door opened and Tony motioned for Clint to go inside in front of him. As he ran inside the jet, he was met by a young woman with shoulder length, wavy hair and strange almost elbow length gloves. Beside her was a huge dark skinned man everyone had called 'Mack'. There was a flurry of activity as the other Avengers piled in. Clint was ushered over to the far corner where there were blue mats set out. This was clearly the medical area as across from him he could see Natasha being treated for a few minor cuts and gashes by a small young woman with brown hair.

Clint knelt and carefully placed Hennessy down on the mats. A tall blonde woman came over and knelt on the other side of Hennessy.

"Was she conscious when you found her?" Bobbi Morse asked, checking Hennessy bruised neck for a pulse. Clint fell back off of his knees and onto his backside as the rush of the raid began to wear off and the jet jolted upwards.

"Yeah… She was- she was fine. Well, she was kinda running. Collapsed after she recognised me," he mumbled. Bobbi moved around Hennessy for a few minutes as Clint looked on, resting his elbow on his knee with his other leg stretched out in front of him.

"Alright. She's obviously suffered some intense trauma to her upper body- bruising, cuts, some broken bones that may not have healed properly. Can't do much for her like this, but that'll change when we get to Zephyr 1. Alright?" she asked, her voice lifting in question at the end. Clint nodded but didn't lift his gaze her Hennessy's face. Her eyes. They were so dull…so _empty_. It was no wonder it took Clint so long clock her face. Bobbi looked at Clint with sympathy he did not see.

"It's gonna be alright. We'll do all we can. We've got a guy like her, if they have the same blood type, he'll donate," she said, reaching over and patting his shoulder. Clint tore his eyes away from Sparky to look at Bobbi. He forced his mouth into a half smile that felt strange and unnatural, but he covered her hand with his own and hoped that would send the same message.

"Girls still running from you, Clint?"

This time he gave a genuine smile. "Yeah, but I guess you'd know all about that."

* * *

Clint woke to the sound of the quinjet docking to Zephyr 1. Tony had transformed his suit into a suitcase, Steve was wearing his undershirt and the trousers from his regular get-up and Natasha had a hoodie on over her catsuit. He didn't see Wanda. They were all moved inside the huge plane. Hennessy was separated from Clint and whisked off the hospital bay. As he was pushed away and into a small room with a camp bed in a corner, he spotted the same brown haired girl that had patched Tasha up cover her mouth when she saw Hennessy lying in a gurney. The girl spoke with an English accent to a young guy who was just about taller than her. Clint could hear Steve's heavy footsteps lumbering after the trolley as the big blonde yelled over the clamour.

"Hey! Be careful with her! Sparky's been through enough shit already!"

Clint turned away from the open door and gazed around the small room. The walls had the same hexagonal pattern as the containment rooms in the Triskelion, before it was destroyed of course. Clint set his bow down at the foot of the camp bed and sat down on the uncomfortable mattress. He fidgeted with his hands for some time before edging his back into the wall and picking up his bow to give his hands something to do. He eventually tipped his head back and nodded off.

Clint woke when Natasha began shaking his shoulder vigorously. He jolted awake and saw her kneeling in front of him.

"Huh… What-what is it?" he asked, sitting forward. Natasha sat back on her heels. She held his arm to calm him.

"Nothing. We're almost back to the tower, we'll have to get back into the quinjet to dock," she explained, getting back to her feet. Clint followed her out the door and strung his bow over his shoulder.

"What about Sparky?" he asked. Natasha flicked her head back to him.

"The two of us, Wanda, and Steve are heading out in the jet. Stark is flying via suit. Once we're off, the jet will head back, pick up Sparky's medical bay and drop it off," she said. They reached a narrow hall with a lone stairs leading up to an open hatch.

"C'mon," Natasha said as she sensed Clint's hesitation. "Rogers and a few others are up there waiting."

They clambered up into the jet, Clint went first. As Natasha reached the last few steps, her foot missed one rung and she stumbled slightly. In an instant, a large hand shot out to help her. Gazing at it, she took it and looked up into Steve's face. He helped her up into the jet and gave her a small smile. Natasha nodded her acknowledgement and removed her hand quickly, careful not to linger. She looked around and saw Clint engaged in a quiet conversation with Coulson, she smiled. Clint was devastated when they heard Coulson died. They found out what happened during the file dump when S.H.I.E.L.D. collapsed in spectacular fashion.

Natasha saw Wanda talking quietly, as she always did, to the girl everyone called Daisy and who Coulson called Skye. Standing silently in the corner, was Agent May. Natasha went to talk to her old friend as Steve went to join Clint and Coulson.

Steve didn't miss the beaming smile that lit up Coulson's face when Captain America arrived.

"Ah, Captain. Good to see you," Coulson greeted. Steve shook his outstretched, mechanical hand.

"And you as well, Director," he replied. Standing up straight with his hands behind his back, Steve looked the epitome of military training and Natasha was jolted back into her own conversation with May.

"Why are you staring at the Captain?" May asked in her usual monotone. Natasha clicked back into her default mode- sarcastic asshole.

"The good Captain doesn't float your boat?" she asked with a smirk.

"Not really…I'm more of a Thor girl," May deadpanned. Natasha let out a chuckle and winked.

"I can hook you up," she replied quickly. May finally cracked the hint of a smile. Suddenly, Coulson's voice rang out.

"Alright! My team, we gotta go let these people get home!"

Everyone bade their farewells and May sat into the pilot seat just in time to see a red and gold man-shaped blur go speeding past.

* * *

 _2 day later…_

Steve had been in the elevator on his way to his room from the gym floor when the elevator stopped on the medical floor. A bedraggled looking Dr Cho rushed in. Steve looked at her for a moment.

"What floor?" he asked.

"Where's Barton?" she asked, seemingly unable to get the words out quick enough.

"I don't know. Might I ask why?"

Dr Cho looked at him. "Ms. Romanoff told me to find Barton the very moment Ms. Hennessy was awake."

Steve had to do a double take, he excused himself politely as he shot out from the elevator.

"FRIDAY, where's Barton?!" he asked.

"Intently throwing darts at a dartboard, Captain," the A.I. replied. Steve sprinted up the stairs into the communal living area. He burst through the doors and spoke without taking a breath.

"Hennessy'sawakeandwecanseehernow!" he yelled. Natasha had been playing darts with Clint. By the time the last dart hit the board, they were past Steve and down the stairs.

All three came crashing through the doors leading to the stairwell. Clint took out a small male nurse as he rushed down the halls. His feet traced the way without needing any direction from his brain. Clint eventually skidded to a halt outside Room 12. Through the window, he could see her.

Hennessy sat propped up on pillows, gazing at a book resting on her lap. Her eyes were glassy and dull, they no longer possessed the twinkle they once had. Suddenly, Steve, Nat and Dr Cho arrived at his side. Helen Cho asked them if they would like to enter. All three just looked at her. Silently, she opened the door and all three rushed in.

Hennessy shifted her gloomy gaze from the book in front of her. Slowly, the ghost of her crooked smile appeared on her lips.

"Well, if it isn't the Three Musketeers," she croaked. Her voice was hoarse and cracked. She was much paler, her face was marked and bruised and she sported a black eye. Seeing Hennessy sitting up, black and blue, but alert and looking around made the three feel as if a mammoth load was taken off of their shoulders. But it wasn't Steve and Nat that Hennessy was looking at.

Clint grinned breathlessly at Jamie's softer smile. Clint a few steps toward the bed. He sat down on the edge beside her and kissed her. He held her head in his hands and Hennessy rested her hands on his neck as she kissed him. In that moment, there was no one else in the room. They were oblivious to anything else in the world. They did eventually break apart when a familiar voice spoke.

"Well, that explains a lot," Tony said from where he stood by the door. Natasha glared at him but Stark was unabashed. Barton stood protectively in front of the hospital bed.

"Tony," he growled. Tony shot him a look but shrugged. He turned his head to Hennessy.

"Tony Stark, and welcome to Avengers Tower," he said. Hennessy looked him up and down warily.

"I know who you are, where I am was a trickier question…" she replied. Tony smirked.

"Well, that makes things awkward, because I know who you are too, well, maybe _about_ you would be a better approximation. Of course, by now most people know about the electric S.H.I.E.L.D. agent," he said.

"I'll take that as a compliment." Hennessy was lightning quick with her reply, prompting Natasha to smirk.

After a while, Steve decided to leave Clint, Nat and Stark to it. He hugged Hennessey lightly and set out for his room at long last. As he walked down the corridors back to the elevator, he couldn't help but look into the window of rooms. All were empty, all but one other. Steve slowed his stride as he came across the room Wanda Maximoff sat inside, with her brother lying in the bed. For some reason, Steve decided to go inside. Pietro still lay motionless in the bed, hooked up to several different machines as he had been for the past few months. Steve opened and closed the door as quietly as he could.

"…Hello, Captain Rogers," Wanda said in her heavily accented voice. Steve shifted his weight.

"Hey, Wanda. And call me Steve. Any change?" he asked gently, picking up a seat and setting it down beside Wanda. She didn't look at him as she spoke.

"Every day I come here, expecting there to be a change. Every day I think, this is it. He will be okay today, he will wake today. But he never does," she said. Steve looked at her with sympathy in his blue eyes. He placed a heavy hand on her shoulder and Wanda looked at him.

"He'll wake up," he said, comfortingly. Wanda gave a small, sad smile.

"I hope so, Captain. I hope so."

* * *

 **How the hell are you? First off, happy New Year to one and all! Second, did you like this one. I do not. I should probably address the fact that everyone is in the Tower, opposed to the New Avengers facility. Main reason is I'm an asshole who don't like change… Well, once again, happy New Year! I'm off to watch The Man From UNCLE for the third/fourth time, let me know what you thought in the reviews!**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	4. Chapter 4

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #4: Poultry Phenomenon**

* * *

Over the weeks that followed Hennessy's arrival, Clint, Steve and Natasha watched as their friend became more withdrawn every day, though she still spoke to people when they arrived to visit but Natasha could see the hollowness in her eyes and how quickly each smile receded to reveal a haunted look. Sometimes, she and Clint would just sit in silence, Clint firmly clutching her now pale, fragile hand and the silver ring visible through his fingers. When he left, Hennessey would amble around the sterile corridors of the medical floor, her speed impaired due to a slight limp.

One day during one of her travels, Hennessy came across quite a commotion in one of the rooms. Through the large glass panel she could see the nurses and doctors fussing around a man sitting on a bed. He was seemingly unharmed, apart from the round scars scattered around his torso and arms. He shook a hand through his platinum hair and gave a wink when he caught sight of Hennessy in the window.

Suddenly, there was a flash of red light and the door opened as a brown-haired girl rushed in. Hennessey stumbled back and fell as the door swung open.

"No! Don't say 'excuse me', it's fine! I rather enjoy being knocked on my ass by the stop traffic light!" she grumbled as she clambered back to her feet. A hand arrived in her line of vision to help her up. Hennessy looked up at Natasha and sighed as she accepted help. Natasha smirked as she pulled Hennessy to her feet.

"See your sarcasm is still safely intact. They couldn't knock that out of you?" she said. Hennessy huffed a laugh as she got up, massaging her lower back with one hand.

"Not for lack of trying," Hennessy replied. Natasha's eyes flickered with sympathy as they both turned to watch the scene in hospital room.

"Who are they?" Sparky asked, nodded at the girl and silver-haired boy. Natasha folded her arms.

"Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Joined our ranks last summer. I'll tell you more on the way," she said. Hennessy looked sideways at Natasha as she started pulling Jamie after her.

"Are we going on an adventure?" she asked. Natasha snorted.

"Something like that. C'mon, Barton cooked dinner," the redhead replied.

"God help us all…"

* * *

They walked through the corridors to the elevator and punched in the communal floor button. Hennessy leant up against the glass back wall.

"So," she prompted. "What's the story with the two back there?"

Natasha looked at her before remembering their earlier conversation.

"They're twins. Picked them up in Sokovia during the summer gone by, we got off to a rocky start but something about a city falling from the sky really brings people together."

Natasha glanced over at Hennessy who was staring open-mouthed.

"A city did whatnow?"

Natasha gawped at Hennessy whose jaw had set.

"Sorry," said the Irish. "I was a little tied up last summer."

* * *

"THE CHICKEN SHOULD BE BROWNING!"

"I KNOW!"

"WHY ISN'T IT BROWNING?!"

"I DON'T KNOW ANYMORE! NOTHING MAKES SENSE!"

"IT NEEDS TO BROOOOWWWNNNN!"

"TONY, NO! THERE HAS TO BE ANOTHER WAY!"

Natasha and Hennessy walked into the kitchen area of the communal floor to see Clint, donning a particularly dashing hot pink apron, grappling and lifting a blowtorch-wielding Tony away from the stove. Natasha dashed forward and yanked the two boys' ears. She threw Clint onto his backside and Tony onto his back. Clint was somewhat graceful and somersaulted to his feet. Tony propped himself up on his elbows and the blowtorch skittered along the ground until Hennessy stopped it at her foot.

"What were you doing exactly?" Natasha asked. Clint stretched.

"Cooking… Duh…" he replied. He spotted Sparky out of the corner of his eye. His face lit up as he half-ran to greet her with a bear hug.

Meanwhile, Natasha inspected the pan contained the chicken that refused to brown. Tony clambered to his feet, picked up the blowtorch and slung it over his shoulder. He stood warily just behind Natasha and spoke quickly.

"It seems that this is some kind of poultry phenomenon. No doubt the product of some kind of controversial farming method," he said assuredly. Natasha nodded earnestly and made a noise of approval.

"Oh, no doubt…" She picked up a knife and picked up a piece of poultry. "Say, have you ever thought of-maybe- removing the plastic first."

Tony gazed at the chicken but recovered quickly, pointing his finger at Clint.

"THIS WAS HIS FAULT. HAWKEYE IS A CANNIBAL!"

Natasha just rolled her eyes and Jamie began to laugh. She shoved the pan into Tony's chest and turned off the stove.

"Where's Rogers?" she asked.

"Out," Clint replied quickly. Nat picked up her phone.

"Good, he can get us takeout." She dialled the number, Steve answered after the third ring.

"Romanoff? Everything alright?" he asked. Natasha sighed.

"Depends on your definition of alright, Rogers. We had a culinary catastrophe not long ago which resulted in the death of dinner. Could you pick up a few pizzas?" she asked. Steve sighed into the phone.

"Alright. I'll get back soon."

While Tasha was on the phone, Clint and Hennessy sat on two stools by the kitchen island. Clint ran his fingers over the cold granite.

"What happened there?" Hennessy asked, nodding at where Natasha stood, talking on the phone. Clint glanced over his shoulder before scratching the back of his neck.

"Uhh. After S.H.I.E.L.D. went down the drain everyone had to lay low. Everyone scattered or were arrested- including Tasha and Steve. He went to Eastern Europe, she went to…I have no idea, but she had a tan when she got back. I haven't seen them be anything but civil or distant to each other since," he explained. Clint glanced over to see Natasha had ended the brief call. She sat down beside Clint and brought with her a bottle of wine.

"The Maximoff kid woke up today," she said after downing a glass. Clint looked at her.

"Wanda was sleeping?"

Natasha flicked his forehead with her fingers, prompting a laugh from Hennessy.

"Oh, Pietro, right. Wait, he woke up?!" Clint exclaimed. Natasha nodded slowly.

"Then we should go see him!" He stood up but Natasha grabbed his arm and yanked him back down.

"Clint. Wanda's down there with him, I don't think he needs anyone else right now. Do you?"

Reluctantly, he plopped back down onto the stool.

* * *

Eventually, Steve arrived with two carrier bags of food for the team. They sat down in lower level seating in the living area, Clint and Sparky sat opposite Natasha and Tony while Steve sat to Nat's left. While everyone began stuffing themselves with fast food, Natasha saw Hennessy's eyes become unfocused and cloudy. As the others talked, and Clint made multiple attempts to involve her, Hennessy remained quiet and detached and gave short answers when she was spoken to.

Natasha decided to grab her attention by telling her about Sokovia and Ultron. By the end of the tale, a small smile had spread across Sparky's face.

"So, you guys thought it'd be fun to drop a city, good idea. Invite me next time," she said. Tony snorted.

"Will do, Leprechaun. Will do," Tony said with a wink. Natasha sipped her latest glass of her wine.

"I'm still shocked that Clint managed to throw your shield straight," she said, glancing at Steve who laughed. Clint chuckled as he sipped his beer. Hennessy, however, was bemused. She looked around.

"Why?"

Clint felt his stomach drop. He glanced at Natasha and Steve, they were both on the edge of their seats.

"Because, we played Frisbee with it and I almost decapitated you and you shocked me," he said solemnly, gripping her hand tight. Hennessy's grey eyes filled with fear and panic.

"I… I don't remember…" She looked around frantically.

"I don't remember. Clint, why don't I remember?"

* * *

 **You go'n kill me, right? Please do it Monday so I don't have to do the school thing. I'm so sorry about the huge delay but I have HUGE exams this year and we just finished our preparation exams on Friday so I have been SUPER DUPER busy. I am sorry, guys. I promise to update if I can. Thanks for coming back.**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc.…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Not-Much-Worse-Idea #1: Not a Bad Day For a Stroll**

* * *

No one could say anything before Hennessy stood up and departed for the balcony. Clint jumped up but didn't follow her. He grabbed fists of his hair and kicked the couch. Steve looked at Natasha for advice on how to act but she was no help. She sat motionless on the couch, Steve thought she looked rather upset which surprised him quite a bit. Meanwhile, Clint was still assaulting the couch. Steve looked from one to the other and then out at Hennessy on the balcony. Making what he knew was a rash decision, Steve picked up Clint around the waist and threw him onto the couch beside Natasha. Scowling at their reactions, Steve picked up a blanket, what was left of the six pack of beer and shoved Clint back onto the couch when the archer made to get up.

"If you're not gonna help, make sure he at least goes to bed tonight," Steve said, not turning back to look at Natasha while he spoke.

Steve pushed open the glass door and joined Hennessy by the railings. He set the beer down beside him as he opened out the blanket. Hennessy was leaning on the railings, her hands covering her face. Steve could hear her muttering something at a rapid pace. It sounded like a chant, like a prayer. When she had finished, Steve looked at her. She looked at the night sky.

"It's the Our Father in Irish…" she said.

"I didn't know you were religious," he replied. Jamie smirked.

"I'm not," she said.

"I learnt it as a child. I used to- I used to scream it out during…while I was…" Hennessy trailed off. Steve put a hand on her shoulder and handed her the blanket.

"When I woke up, there were patches of my memory that were…missing… After a while they started coming back. There is a possibility yours could too."

Jamie wrapped the blanket around herself but maintained her frown.

"Then there's a possibility they won't," she replied. Steve leaned on the railings and looked up.

"There's a possibility Loki, the Chitauri and every other bastard we've ever fought could show up and kill us tomorrow morning," he said. Hennessy huffed a laugh. Steve reached down and handed her a beer.

"I don't know what that is. I didn't look when I picked up the pack. Natasha kinda had me a little flustered."

Hennessy smirked again as she drank from the can.

"She tends to do that to people," Sparky replied. After another sip of beer, she spoke again.

"And I know what this is," she informed him. Steve's interest was piqued.

"What is it?" he asked, eyebrow raised. Hennessy glanced down at the can in her hand and made a face while she swallowed.

"It's shite." And with that, she tossed the can over her shoulder. Steve laughed. She glanced at him.

"Thanks, Steve…" Hennessy said. Steve smiled and turned to her.

"No problem," he said. Wordlessly, they hugged. Hennessy wrapped the blanket around her friend.

"And I knew you were saying the Our Father. My mother taught me Gaelic Irish," he said as they hugged. Jamie smiled as they released each other.

"Really?" she asked. Steve nodded.

"Yeah, she taught me how to play hurling too… It's really hard. Plus, the wooden hurley weighed more than I did." He laughed as he spoke. Jamie hugged herself.

"Well, you're talking to an All-Ireland Under 21s winner. I'll have to challenge you to a match someday, now that you weigh a little more," she said quietly. Steve smiled and threw an arm around Sparky.

"Yes, you will," he replied. Hennessy laughed.

Inside, Natasha looked on. Clint was lying face down on the couch but managed to pull himself up. He stood by Natasha, watching Sparky. Without looking at him, Natasha spoke.

"You should watch out for Captain-Steal-Your-Girl," she deadpanned. Clint set his jaw.

"At least I gave my girl a ring," he said. With that he turned on his heel and made for his room.

* * *

Early the next morning, Clint-surprisingly- woke first and went downstairs to the medical floor. By the time he reached her room, Hennessy was already awake and sitting on her bed-earphones in. Clint opened the door loudly so that she would hear. She jumped and removed her earphones. Clint gave a smile and held up his hands to stop her questions.

"Wanna go for a walk?"

Hennessy smiled brightly and nodded. Clint took her hand and they went upstairs.

"Where you kidnapping me to?" she asked. Clint shrugged as he led her.

"I hope you don't think this is creepy but when I got back to D.C. I went to your apartment and saved some stuff," he said as he opened the door to his room. Hennessy stood by the door as Clint dove under his bed for the box. As he wrestled it out, Sparky saw what she knew was a hurley. Clint set it on the bed and motioned Hennessy toward it. Jamie picked up the first thing she saw- her Xbox. Underneath the console she saw a small round ball. It was white leather with black seams and was heavy. She knew it was a sliotar and told Clint as much.

"A what?" he asked. Jamie turned it over in her hands as she reached for the hurley. To him, the ball looked like a baseball and the stick thing looked like a wooden hockey stick but with a shorter handle and larger face.

"A sliotar- _shlitter-_ you play hurling with it. We go on a walk and I'll show you."

Clint took the ball and weighed it in his hand.

"Let's take the others with us. Field trip," he said.

It took many, many minutes of careful preparation to get Steve, Nat, Tony and Pepper out of the Tower. Pepper instructed Steve and Clint to leave the workshop when Tony refused to put down his wrench. Minutes later he emerged from the workshop with combed hair and a grease-free t-shirt. Pepper did look rather triumphant. The six of them strolled through Central Park. Tony and Pepper walked hand in hand while Clint and Hennessy played catch with the ball and hurley. Steve joined in, leaping onto Clint's back to catch a ball Hennessy struck. Natasha watched them with a smile.

They had tried to travel discreetly but it was difficult to mask Steve and Tony's faces with just sunglasses and baseball cap, so they had to abandon the idea. Natasha's thoughts were interrupted when the sliotar came sailing toward her. Suddenly, something large and blonde caught the ball and landed at her feet. Natasha stared down at Steve's smiling face, lips pursed.

"I knew you'd fall for me," she said, smirking. Steve accepted her hand and Natasha pulled him up. Natasha smiled and took the ball from his grasp.

"What's this, a baseball?" she asked. Steve was going to explain that the ball was called a 'sliotar' but decided against it.

"Something like that," he replied. Natasha gave her trademark lopsided smirk, which Steve returned with his own smile. He went to take the ball back but instead he found his hand rested on top of the round, smooth surface, his thumb brushing hers. He found himself focusing on her green eyes again as a breeze blew through, rustling the trees and bushes.

Clint went to yell for the ball back but Hennessy launched herself at him, covering his mouth with her hand just in time to stop his tactlessness.

"C'mon jackass, we're going on a walk," she said. Clint smiled and turned to face her. He sighed and took her hand.

"Let's go then," he said, smiling. With a look of apprehension, he added-

"Mind if I hold the deadly weapon?"

Hennessy laughed and handed him the hurley. Tony and Pepper were way ahead of Hennessy and Clint, so they had the paths to themselves, apart from the occasional jogger.

After a while, Hennessy spoke.

"I'm sorry, Clint. I'm sorry I'm not person I used to be. But, after what they did to me… I can't remember things that- that made me…me. The memories we had…they're gone. I don't know how Romanoff survived."

Clint stopped walking and pulled Hennessy back by the hand. He looked down at her.

"Sparky, I was thinking about your memory loss," he began. "They don't make you Jamie Hennessy. They don't make us _**us**_. And Natasha survived her own way but she got help from S.H.I.E.L.D., and they still helped after she attacked a therapist with a ballpoint pen. My point being, just because you lost a few memories doesn't mean you've lost yourself. Doesn't mean you've lost me. Anyway, we can just make new memories."

Hennessy gazed at him before looping her arms around his neck. Clint raised his eyebrows and smirked.

"What?"

She just shrugged. "I'm fucking lucky you fell through my ceiling, y'know that."

Clint laughed. "That really hurt. You didn't have to throw the boot at me."

Hennessy chuckled. "I kinda love you, asshole."

"I kinda love you, Guinness," Clint replied, smiling. Clint bent his head down and kissed Sparky.

Meanwhile, Steve and Natasha had taken a different path with the ball. Still standing close, Natasha smirked with a mischievous glint in her eye. She weighed the heavy sliotar in her hand.

"Bet this thing could do a lot of damage," she said. Steve smiled.

"Shall we play a game?" he asked. Nat smirked again. Steve suggested they play catch. As he strolled leisurely away, Natasha could not help but seize the opportunity to catch an opponent off guard.

Reeling back her arm, she took aim and threw the ball at the back of Steve's head. Her trademark sly smirk was still playing in her lips.

* * *

 **What's that I see? Is it… ? Could it possibly be…? Romanogers? ;)**

 **Sorry about the wait, I've been feeling sick and really down lately but writing helps…So here you go! Also I brought back the 'Good Idea' every 5 'Bad Ideas'.**

 **I hope you guys enjoy it! Leave a review if you did!**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc.…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #6: A New Addition to the Roster**

* * *

The next morning, Pepper was seated at the dining table with her breakfast and morning coffee, the day's papers, magazines and tabloids in front of her. She was steadily making her way through the broadsheets and decided to see if the trashy tabloids had any more 'rumours' about Tony or the Avengers. Natasha arrived in and sat to Pepper's left.

"Morning," Natasha said. Pepper smiled back.

"Good morning, Natasha. Wanna help me look for untrue rumours about us in tabloids? It's a fun game," she said. Natasha smirked and picked up a few magazines. On her fifth magazine, she hit the jackpot.

' _HEROES IN LOVE?!'_

' _BLACK WIDOW, CAPTAIN AMERICA, IRON MAN AND HAWKEYE ALL SPOTTED GETTING COSY IN CENTRAL PARK!_

 _GET THE DETAILS ON PAGE 7!'_

The headlines were supported by a collage of pictures of Tony and Pepper, Natasha and Steve and Clint and Hennessy. Natasha felt her curiosity get the better of her as she did, indeed, turn to page seven. She was greeted by photographs of Tony and Pepper walking together arm in arm.

' _Billionaire Tony Stark's romance with Stark Industries CEO, Pepper Potts continues, strong as ever, as "Pepperony" are seen coupling it up during a stroll.'_

The next page was plastered with pictures of Steve and Nat standing close, their hands covering the ball they played with yesterday.

' _Possible couple alert! Tension builds between Steve Rogers and Natalia Romanoff. The teammates were seen standing close and talking quietly together yesterday. Who knows what may happen to the gorgeous pair? Watch this space!'_

Nat laughed quietly at the photograph. It was taken from behind and to the right of Natasha, her red hair vibrant against her dark clothes. She chuckled at the stark height difference between them but did not let herself think about the text of the short article. She turned the page and saw a double page spread dedicated to Clint and Hennessy. There was a huge photo of the two kissing and smaller ones of them joking while holding hands, much like the photos of Pepper and Tony.

' _Hawkeye (a.k.a. Clint Barton) seen laying on the PDA with mystery girl -rumoured to be ex-S.H.I.E.L.D. agent Jamila "Jamie" Hennessy, who was previously missing and presumed dead following the collapse of the Triskelion._

 _The rugged archer certainly seems smitten with his new leading lady. Is the bachelor finally in love?'_

Just as Natasha was about to show the tabloid to Pepper, Clint strode in, still in his pyjamas, holding a coffee mug. He burst out laughing upon seeing the articles.

"Yeah! I'm rugged, motherfu-" he began. Sparky cut him off as she walked in, swinging her arm around in circles to loosen her stiff shoulder.

"What's got Barton swearing at ten in the morning?" she asked, making her way to the table. Natasha showed her the tabloid. Hennessy's face dropped.

"My mom's gonna kill me. She's always on their website!"

Everyone burst into fits of laughter. Clint looked around.

"Where's Captain Big, Blond and Beautiful?" he asked. Pepper shrugged as she stood up.

"Wherever he is, he's probably there for a reason," she stated. Turning around, she pointed her finger at the other three.

"Leave him alone, kids," she ordered sternly. Clint looked at her and sipped from his coffee.

"Yes, ma'am."

Pepper laughed and said goodbye as she set off for her office upstairs. Clint dropped down into her newly vacated seat.

Sparky looked at his face. "Why is there a Band-Aid on your nose?"

He drank the rest of his coffee. "Oh, I walked into a door last night."

Natasha raised a brow. "Was it at least glass?"

"Nope," Clint said, popping the 'p' and shaking his head. "I'd say oak, if I had to guess."

Hennessy and Natasha looked as if they may question him further but the women shared a look and Hennessy shook her head discreetly. Natasha chuckled. Sparky stretched her arms over her head.

"Alright, I'm going to head down to my physio session. I'll see you later, Romanoff," she said. Natasha nodded.

"Rather you then me, Hennessy. Good luck."

Clint went to stand up. "I'll walk you down if you want."

He was wearing a grey t-shirt and blue boxer shorts. Hennessy looked in up and down.

"Not until you put on some clothes. I can't have you scaring my poor nurse…"

* * *

Steve woke early and went downstairs from his room, into the kitchen area. He got himself breakfast and sat at the centre island, his cereal bowl carefully set on a place mat in order to keep the black marble clean. As he ate he heard soft footsteps enter the room. Wanda appeared by the fridge.

"Good morning," Steve greeted. She turned, as if startled. Wanda regained her composure and gave a small smile.

"Good morning, Captain," she replied in a heavily accented voice. Steve smiled and stood up with his bowl.

"It's Steve," he said. "Would you like to sit down?"

Wanda nodded. Steve went to the sink to wash out his bowl.

"How's your brother?" he asked over the sound of running water.

"He is getting better. I'm going to see him later. He has physiotherapy today. And hates it…" she said. Steve laughed and asked why. Wanda smiled.

"It is slow. Pietro hates slow, always has."

Steve chuckled and poured out orange juice.

"Would it be alright if I went down with you to see him? I'd like to discuss him joining the team."

Wanda seemed taken aback, then delighted. "Of course!"

* * *

After breakfast, they made their way to the physiotherapy floor which was below the living floors. There were a few temporary rooms here where the Avengers and their allies stayed when the medical team needed to keep tabs on them. It was currently where Pietro and Hennessy were staying, though Steve knew that Sparky mostly stayed with Barton.

Wanda knocked on the door to Pietro's room and entered as they heard Pietro's muffled permission. The curtains were still drawn and Wanda pulled back the fabric gently. The light from the small window bathed the room with the glow of the early morning. Pietro murmured something from the cot by the wall. Wanda replied to it in Sokovian and went to the narrow wardrobe opposite the bed. She threw a T-shirt onto her brother as he began to get up.

Steve had always hated the dark rooms. The walls were a dull brown, the carpet grey and the furniture a darker shade of grey. They window was relatively small. The colours were chosen to be calming. He had always thought the rooms were more like plush prison cells than rooms for people recovering from illness or injury. He couldn't blame Sparky for staying with Clint most nights.

Pietro shrugged on the top Wanda had handed him. Wanda stood in front of his cot and held out her hands, palms facing the ceiling.

"Steven, could you get the crutches, please?" she asked as Pietro took her hands. Steve handed her the crutches as Pietro gingerly stood with Wanda grasping both his wrists. He slid his hands into the crutches and took a few steps. Wanda made the bed as Pietro looked Steve up and down.

The man stood like a soldier, just like in the photographs he had seen in the old history books Pietro's father used to read with him.

"You see it for yourself, Captain. I get killed, I get back up," Pietro said. Steve nodded and smiled. Wanda ushered them out into the corridor.

"Were you going to sleep through your therapy?" she quizzed her brother as they made their way to the centre. Pietro huffed as he hobbled between Wanda and Steve.  
"No…" he replied with petulance.

"So, you do not want to improve? To recover fully?" she asked. Pietro scoffed.

"Of course I want that… But that does not mean I ever will."

Wanda looked as if she may reply but she was too hurt by his response. Steve noticed and reached around to squeeze her arm. Wanda smiled as Steve gave her a reassuring wink.

They reached the doors and pushed them open. The room was huge with light brown linoleum floors and lots of medical equipment. There were a few beds by the back wall separated by blue curtains that were all open, meaning all the beds were visible.

Dr Helen Cho greeted them all and led Steve and Wanda to seating by the door while she accompanied Pietro over to one of the beds. Steve spotted Sparky sitting with another doctor. Her jacket lay on the floor while she wore a vest top. She grimaced as the doctor touched her shoulder. Steve went over for a chat as the doctor walked away momentarily.

"How you doing?" he asked. Sparky sighed a laugh.

"I'm here, aren't I? I'm alright, my shoulder just acts up…" she replied.

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Norway shoulder?"

Hennessy winked. "The one and only. Turns out being strung up with the hands above your head isn't conducive to improving already fucked up shoulders."

Steve laughed and Hennessy smiled. After he managed to regain his usual demeanour, Sparky nodded in the direction of the twins.

"Who're the new circus additions?" she asked.

"Wanda and Pietro Maximoff. Twins. Enhanced." Steve saw Hennessy's face drop at the sound of the twins' last name.

"Maximoff… They mentioned them all the time. HYDRA…" she trailed off. Steve placed a hand on her good shoulder. Hennessy went quite pale at the thought of her captors.

"I know," he said. "HYDRA experimented on them. Gave them powers with Loki's sceptre… They're good guys, brave."

He glanced at Pietro sitting on the hospital bed.

"Both of 'em."

Hennessy followed his gaze. "Steve, I gotta tell you something. I don't know what HYDRA did to me, but I can sense electrical shit now. And I don't have to touch stuff to turn it on or off, or fry it… I'm freaking the fuck out…"  
Steve folded his arms and shifted on his feet. He was about to ask Hennessy more but suddenly he felt his phone go off in the pocket of his combat trousers. He went to answer it but hesitated, glancing up at Sparky.

"You?"

Sparky shrugged. "Like I said, without touching it."

"Told anyone yet?" Steve asked. Hennessy said that she'd only told Barton and Dr Cho, who had done blood test and was awaiting the results.

"What about the twins, what can they do? Are they dangerous?" Sparky asked. Steve shifted on his feet and smiled. Hennessy looked at him with her own intrigued grin.

"If I run at both of them with a knife, will I survive?"

Steve laughed. "Well, _**he**_ will stop you before you have time to take the knife out."

"Fuck me," Hennessy replied. "Super speed…"

Steve laughed. "And _**she**_ will make sure you never get the urge to get the knife from your kitchen."

Hennessy's face dropped. "Feck off… You're shitting me, right?"

Steve laughed and shook his head.

Hennessy grabbed the edge of the bed. "Mind control…"

"Among other things…" Steve replied. The look Sparky gave him persuaded him (scared him) enough to elaborate.

"Telekinesis, energy manipulation… She gets inside your head…"

Hennessy leaned back. "I am done. I am so done."

Steve laughed again. They spoke about the twins some more until Hennessy's physio return. Steve went back to Wanda. Pietro was with his doctor at a walking frame.

* * *

After about an hour, Hennessy left with her bad shoulder strapped in an intricate way. She nodded at her friend and Wanda. Steve noticed Pietro glancing at Sparky briefly before returning to work.

Soon, he too was finished. Steve hung back while the physiotherapist spoke to the Maximoff kids. When they arrived back at Pietro's room, Pietro sat on his bed while Steve spoke.

"I'd like to offer you a place on the Avengers roster, when you get better," he said plainly. Pietro was taken aback.

"Me?" he clarified. "An Avenger…" He looked at his sister who remained passive but offered him her hand. Pietro grasped it. It seemed that Wanda had already received the same offer. And accepted it. He wasn't going to let her face battles alone. Ever.

"Alright. I accept," he said finally. Steve shook his hand.

"Good to have you on board, kid."

Pietro nodded. This was not a good idea.

* * *

 **I'm back again. At long last…. Thanks for your tolerance of m educational needs! I know this is sorta boring and that there's been a lot of Sparky. I would love some suggestions so get them in when you can! However you can!**

 **Thanks for all the reviews, favourites and follows! You guys are awesome!**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day, night, afternoon, etc…**

 **Love ya! ;)**

 **P.S. Who here is following the Euros. C'mon Republic of Ireland! (And Jeff Hendrick- my ginger gets it…)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #7: The Feeling of Home**

* * *

After breakfast, Natasha decided to go training. She went first to the shooting range and stayed there for a few hours. Soon enough, Clint arrived and they had a competition to see who got the highest score. Bow versus gun. Gun won out rather controversially in the end when Nat's bullet spilt Clint's arrow in half on the bullseye.

Following the range, Natasha headed to the gym. It was empty and Nat had first pickings at the equipment. After turns on the bike, treadmill, rowing machine and a crack at the punching bags, she journeyed upstairs for lunch. She thought she might have Steve's blond hair and large frame. At the same time, Steve was convinced that the flash of red that crossed his vision as he made his way to the kitchen was the vibrant colour of Natasha's hair.

Upon reaching the kitchen, Natasha decided to make a sandwich. Unfortunately, one of her required ingredients was on a high shelf- the greatest enemy of someone smaller than 5 foot 5 inches. Nat decided to stand on the counter top to get it. After she retrieved the paprika, Natasha looked down and found that she really didn't fancy the jump off of the counter. Perhaps, even more unfortunately, this was when Steve made his entrance.

He paused for a moment to fully appreciate the sight of a stranded Natasha on a counter.

"Are… Are you alright, Natasha?" he asked. She looked down and around at her options.

"Ummmmm," she said. "Can I get back to you on that?"

Steve smiled. He smiled at how her brows were furrowed in exasperation and at how her expression took the shape of her familiar one determination. Slowly, he made his way toward her. Steve stopped in front of Natasha and gazed up.

"Need a hand?" he asked, with an outstretched hand. Natasha considered at his hand deliberately.

"What, don't you trust me?"

She smirked and replied. "Should I answer that?"

Steve laughed as she took his hand. He took her waist and hoisted her off the counter. At the touch of her hand, Steve recalled the times he had held her close. The times when her head lay comfortably on his chest and when her lips had found his. Back when his life had been a haze of S.H.I. . missions and red hair and night-long embraces. Before reality had inevitably caught up and destroyed their life together.

The slap of Natasha's runners on the tiled floor pulled him rudely from his reverie. Steve let go and Natasha reached up to close the cupboard's door. Steve went to help but Natasha turned to him with a frown.

"I got it," she snapped. Steve scowled back.

"Really? Do you know? A second ago you were stuck on a counter."

Natasha squared up to him, her face inches from his, her fiery eyes boring into his steely blues.

"I didn't ask for your help," she said. Steve rolled his eyes.

"Doesn't mean you didn't need it."

His reply irritated Natasha further.

"Doesn't mean I wanted it."

Steve was taken aback and clenched his jaw. Natasha averted her gaze to ignore the hurt in his eyes.

"So next time just let me fall, Rogers…"

Steve took a deep breath and adjusted himself so that he could look at Nat's eyes without having to move her.

"You know I can't do that, Romanoff. No matter how much you push me or what you call me I will always care about you…and I know that deep down you care about me, too."

Natasha looked at him intensely and Steve could not help but allow his eyes to flicker to her lips. Suddenly, she backed away and cleared her throat.

"I have to go," she said. With that she made to leave. However, Natasha hesitated at the doorway and turned back to Steve.

"I'm going to the gym… I need a sparring partner…"  
Steve smiled. "Mind if I tag along?"

It was Natasha's turn to smile. "Course not, but could you grab my sandwich?"

They walked downstairs to the gym, laughing at Tony's choice in elevator music.

Once they got down to the gym they saw a few people milling around but the sparring mats were free.

They both put on gloves as they approached the mats at opposite angles. Steve winked and Natasha took it as a 'go!'. She moved swiftly and dummied a punch with her left hand before jabbing his ribs with her right. Steve recovered quickly and made to hook his leg behind hers but Nat was much too quick. She grabbed his leg and twisted. Steve leapt up and kicked out with his other as he twisted in the air. Natasha let go as she ducked and rolled under Steve's legs when he landed. Steve spun around and launched a jab that caught her side. Nat dodged the follow-up and lashed out with a roundhouse kick. He caught her ankle, as he went to throw her over his shoulder Natasha struggled and found herself sitting on his shoulders. She wrapped her legs around his neck.

Steve's balance was throw and he fell back, trying not to crush Nat. She tightened her thighs around his neck. It occurred to Steve that many men had died this way. He decided that there were much worse way to go than ' _death by thighs'_.

Suddenly, Natasha released him and clambered on top, one knee pressing on his chest while the other pinned his left leg. She pinned his wrists above his head. They were both breathing heavily.

"What d'you say Cap. Not giving in, are you?" she said, panting. Steve laughed breathlessly, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Might have to make an exception," he said. "I'm tapping out, Nat."

Steve hit the mat three times and Nat let him up. Steve sat up, resting on his elbows. Natasha rested beside him.

"Good session, Red. Pretty sure you're right hook is going to leave a mark, though," Steve said. Natasha laughed.

"C'mon Blondie, learn to take a hit," she replied. Steve chuckled and feigned offense, holding a hand over his heart. Natasha laughed and clambered to her feet, taking Steve's hand from his chest. She tried to pull him up but Steve was feeling playful and refused to stand. Natasha grabbed his hand in both of hers and tugged with all her might. Steve dug in his heels and she pulled. Suddenly, Steve yanked Natasha down. She fell on top of him. They erupted into laughter together, Natasha resting her forehead on his chest. Steve wrapped his arms protectively around her, chuckling deeply. Natasha looked up, smiling. Her green eyes dancing with mirth. She looked at him, enjoying the feeling of being close to him again after so long. He felt comforting, warm. He felt like home.

Abruptly, the tone of a phone interrupted them. It was Steve's ringtone. Steve let out a tired sigh as Natasha stood. He followed her as she went over to the bench. He stooped and rested his chin on her shoulder as she dug through gym clothes for the phone. Natasha smiled at the physical contact. However her smiled faded slowly a she found the phone. A miscall from one Sharon Carter. She turned and poked the phone at his chest. Steve frowned at Nat's expression.

She faked a smile. "You should return the call, she probably wants to go for dinner again."

Natasha turned on her heel and walked out, leaving Steve calling after her. She should have known it would be a bad idea to become close to Steve, _again._

* * *

 **Sorry I'm late guys, I just had zero inspriration and I really need ideas. Could you guys help me out and send a few prompts?**

 **Also I watched the new Star Wars flick… Great movie but a big mistake. Highkey got a new OTP in Finnrey/ StormJedi…**

 **Hope you enjoyed the Romanogers.**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/ night/ afternoon/ etc…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #8: To Return a Call Or Not to Return a Call**

* * *

Natasha packed her things into her gear bag as she marched away from the gym. She heard loud, bounding footsteps making their way toward her. Suddenly, Natasha felt someone yanking her arm back. She leapt into a fighting stance but saw her enemy was Steve. The look of hurt and surprise on his face caused her to unclench her fists. She instead resigned herself to a scowl.

"What, Steve?" Natasha asked, rather harshly. Steve regained his composure.

"Are you alright?"

Natasha glared at him. "Of course I am, you oaf!"

Steve was taken aback by the fire in her green eyes. Her expression revealed nothing- that is, other than the fact the she was severely ticked off. Steve thought he might know why. He decided to soften his tactics. He reached out and rested his hand on her bicep. Natasha stiffened only to soon relax.

"Nat…" Steve murmured. "Please…" Strangely, Steve felt unable to finish the sentence. He felt trapped under her intense gaze.

Natasha reached up and covered her bicep with her opposite hand, gently removing it. She held it in her much smaller hand. He squeezed her hand and prompted a smile from her.

Steve took a step closer.

"Nat, Sharon and I…we're not…it's not-"

She cut him off.

"Don't, Rogers," she said, not meeting his gaze yet wearing her familiar smirk. Her voice was gentler and quieter, it lulled Steve into thinking they were somewhere else, under different circumstances. He bent down and kissed her lightly, one hand resting under her chin and the other still gripping her own. Natasha returned the kiss briefly before breaking away. Steve missed the pressure of her lips desperately but didn't dare move when she pressed a hand to his chest.

"You should return that call," Natasha aid quietly. And that, she squeezed his hand and left.

* * *

Meanwhile in the living area, Clint was introducing Hennessy to Sam via a game of darts. Wanda and Pietro had decided to watch television, instead.

"So, your codename is ' _Falcon_ '…" Hennessy gestured at Sam with a dart as she lined up a shot. He nodded.

"Uh-huh."

"And I know your ass is called _'Hawkeye'_ …" She then gestured at Clint. "You boys should start a club, or a cover band. It's a match made in heaven. Ah yes, I can see it now; _Avian Asshats."_

Sam chuckled. "Kinda catchy. It's got a nice ring to it…"

Clint whacked him on the shoulder from where he sat beside Sam.

Just as Hennessy released a dart, there was a strange sound. Clint turned his head to see it was just Vision phasing through a wall. It still creeped him out a little having an android walking around with JARVIS's voice but he and Sam were gradually growing accustomed to it. Hennessy, however, had never laid eyes on Vision.

"CHRIST ON A BIKE!" she exclaimed, accent thick as she leapt behind Clint's chair. "THE HELL IS THAT?!"

Wanda and Pietro, swivelled their heads.

Neither Clint, Sam or Pietro could contain their laughter. Only Wanda remained composed as she went to Sparky's aid in her time of hysteria.

"My presence frightens you?" Vision inquired, tilting his very purple head to the side. Hennessy leapt again, prompting Wanda to place a calming hand on her shoulder.

"That is the Vision, he is a friend and he will not harm you," she explained.

"It's true," a very well dressed Vision replied. "I shall not."

Hennessy was taken aback by how soft-spoken this strange man was. Clint had righted himself once more and grasped his partner's hand. He stood and led her over to Vision.

Vision extended his right hand as Wanda had informed him it was a human custom when people met first. Jamie took it and shook his hand heartily.

"I am Vision," he said. Sparky was still rather breathless when she introduced herself.

"Jamie Hennessy, but a lot of people call me Sparky," she replied.

"You must be who Agent Barton often speaks of."

Vision released her hand and went to hold a conversation with Wanda. Clint cleared his throat as he felt the tips of his ears grow pink. Hennessy said nothing but looked to be suppressing a rather large smile. They went back to the bar to join Sam. Clint's laptop was running on the countertop and Sparky was logged into her Skype account. After a few minutes, the two boys noticed her expression change into one of utter terror.

"What's up?" Sam asked. Hennessy's words were so quiet, they didn't hear them.

"Uh…what was that?" Clint asked. She looked up.

"My mother wants to Skype me. The last time she Skyped me was to give out to me for scratching my first car. This isn't going to end well…"

She answered the call and a grainy picture of her mother popped up. Clint and Sam looked at each other, then vaulted the counter to get a glimpse at Elizabeth Hennessy.

"Hi, Mammy…" Hennessy said sweetly. Even through the low quality picture, Clint could tell Mother Hennessy was not pleased.

"Hello Jamila," Elizabeth replied. Hennessy winced. Sparky's mom had reading glasses on and there were rollers in her hair. The picture lagged as she reached off camera but it returned to normal speed when she returned with a magazine of some sort.

"Now, Jamie…" she said, voice stern. "I recognise that you have a life and that photographers are very intrusive. But in this article-"

Elizabeth flipped to the right page and pointed out a line to the camera.

"It says ' _presumed dead'_. Now, as your mother it seems reasonable to question this. What were you doing when you were _'presumed dead'_? More importantly, _why_ were you presumed dead?" Mrs Hennessy's tone was both solemn and anxious. Clint squeezed Sparky's hand from under the table.

"Mammy, I told you when I rang you. After the business with S.H.I.E.L.D. I had to lay low for a while, we all did. I was just better at it," Hennessy lied. Elizabeth was understandably apprehensive.

"You realise you don't rear three children without developing a lie detector. I will find out if you're lying, Jamila."

"I know, Mam."

Elizabeth looked at the three faces crowding the monitor.

"That's quite enough of that. Now, don't be rude and introduce me to your new friend…"

Surprisingly, both Sam and Clint thoroughly enjoyed their chats with Elizabeth. Sam and she really appeared to hit it off. If somehow she could have offered him tea through a computer screen, Jamie knew there would be several cups stacked at the sink by the time the call ended. Lots of biscuits too…

* * *

Soon after the laptop was closed, there was a flash of red as Natasha blew in wearing sweatpants and an old oversized sweater. By now the sun had set and it was socially acceptable to enjoy alcoholic beverages. Natasha swept behind the bar and fixed herself a drink.

"What? Not taking any orders, Romanoff?" Hennessy asked jokingly. Sam laughed.

"Now, now, Jamila. I doubt doing a couple Jagerbombs will help your situation with Momma Hennessy right now," he replied. Hennessy rounded on him, pointing her finger.

"It's not my fault my mother prefers you to me, right now, alright?"

* * *

 **I KNOW IT'S HORRIBLY LATE, I SUFFER FROM WRITER'S BLOCK AND PROCRASTINATION. I'M REALLY, REALLY SORRY...**

 **I hope you like this chapter, I had a request for more Romanogers and I was happy to comply! If anyone wants to see anything/anyone just say. I'll be delighted to help!**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day, night, afternoon, etc…**

 **Love ya ;)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for confirmation**_

 **Worse Idea #9: A Moonlight Walk**

* * *

Natasha woke the during the night to the sound of rain pattering against the floor-to-ceiling window in her room. Glancing at the nightstand, she saw the red numbers of her alarm clock read 03:20. She sighed and sat up. The heat of her room was beginning to get to her so, throwing off her heavy quilt, she swung her legs over the bed and got out. The plush carpet was soft under her feet. Natasha slipped between the curtains and looked through the Miniature Rivers of rain onto the city before her. The lights twinkled through the downpour.

Her mind raced with the events of the earlier evening. She loved Steve. Truly. But that meant that she didn't want him to get hurt. Natasha was certain she would do just that, and, so, she broke up with him for the second time just before S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. Natasha couldn't risk any chance at happiness Steve might have with Sharon just because she could not make up her own mind. Deep down, Natasha knew she would never be good enough for him.

She shook her head and decided to go for a walk. Natasha pulled on a pair of jeans and an old hoodie. She pulled her long red waves into a ponytail. Her trusted leather jacket was downstairs and she was forced to make a pit stop to collect her jacket from the communal kitchen. Natasha had not been expecting to see Clint at the island. He seemed to sense her presence and held out her leather jacket without looking up from the mug in his other hand.

"Couldn't sleep," Natasha explained. Clint glanced up and smirked.

"It's going around," he replied. Natasha took her jacket and slipped it on over her hoodie.

"I was gonna head out for a walk, you want to tag along?" she asked. Clint tipped his head and considered her offer.

"Sure, let's go." He stood up and began to walk ahead. Natasha watched him.

"Clint, your pyjamas…"

Without breaking stride, he turned around and marched to the small couch by the kitchenette. He reached behind the cushions and pulled out a change of clothes in a zip lock bag. Nat raised a fiery eyebrow.

"Really? You hide your spares in couch?"

Clint shrugged as best he could while pulling on his sweater

"Where do you keep yours?" he asked.

"Behind a loose panel in the living room like a normal person," Natasha replied. Clint shrugged on a rain jacket and stood beside her.

"Huh," he said, pouting his bottom lip. "Did not think of that…"

* * *

They set out into the rain together, hoods up and hands in pockets. They spoke very little, instead enjoying each other's company and clean feeling of the air through the rain. As they walked down the street Natasha stopped in her tracks, she cocked her head to the side. Her expression was grave. Clint did not have to ask, he could sense something put her on edge. He felt his own finely tuned senses go into overdrive at her manner. Clint suspected car speeding down the street might have something to do with it.

Natasha jumped back from the curb as the car roared past. It was lucky the road was relatively quiet because when the car came to the corner ahead of the two Avengers, it failed to slow down and instead slammed into the glass window of a pawn shop. Instinctively, Natasha and Clint sprinted toward the cloud of dust and smoke. Being lighter, Natasha skidded to halt by the shop front before Clint. She was just in time to see a figure stumble out of the car and into the pawn shop. Natasha pulled the collar of her hoodie over her mouth and nose, as she did this a second man fell out of the car's driver side. Natasha couched behind the car's tail light and peered through the haze of dust and debris. The first man emptied the cash register as the second slowly clambered to his feet, coughing and moaning. Natasha was without a weapon and cursed herself as a man- the owner of the shop- stumbled down into his destroyed business. Clint arrived just as the leader socked the owner in the jaw.

"Hey!" he yelled, taking out his gun. The leader pulled out his own firearm and panicked, shooting the owner as he made a run for it.

"Shit! Shit, man!" the other man shouted as he fumbled in his jacket. Natasha could see him and leapt out from behind the car, kicking him in the jaw and knocking him out. Natasha reached inside his body warmer and snatched his hand gun. Clint ran to the owner and pressed against the wound in the older man's shoulder.

"Clint, you stay here! Call the cops and an ambulance! I'm going after the other guy!" Natasha yelled. She took off at speed around the corner she saw the leader head for. It was starting to rain heavily and the footpaths were slippery. Natasha saw her target ahead of her. Her tattered trainers slapped against the pavement. She saw the criminal turn down an alley. Natasha skidded around the turn and trained her gun on the man in front of her.

"FREEZE!" she yelled. "Trust me, I will beat you over a long distance race!"

The man halted. Suddenly, he turned around and whipped out his weapon.

"Try me!" he roared back. Something about his accent struck Natasha. The gun shook in his trembling, tight fist. Sensing that something might go wrong, Natasha took aim and let off a shot. The bullet grazed his hand, causing him to drop the gun and clutch his bleeding hand. Natasha rushed forward to subdue the man. She ran toward him and tackled him to the ground.

"Get off me! Get off! I know people! They can come after you!"

She wrenched his arms behind his back, tying them with the drawstring of her hoodie, and rolled him over to face her. Her hood had slipped off in the chase and her hair and face were soaked.

"You know, if I weren't arresting you, I'd be happy to meet someone who doesn't recognise me," she said, yanking him up. There was a faint glow from a street light and she was closer to the man's face. Natasha could make out his features through his thick beard. Most of them were new to her, but she seemed to remember others. His nose and eyes -particularly their colour- were familiar. The accent and the eyes. She paused as she marched him out into the open, trying to place the man's face in her memory. Clint came tearing down the street toward her.

Suddenly, he stopped, his face becoming contorted in fury. Clint punched in in the nose and tackled him to the ground.

"YOU BASTARD! YOU COULDA KILLED HER!"

Nat leapt into action, struggling to wrestle Clint back.

"Clint! Clint, stop!"

"NO, NATASHA... HE STABBED HER!" Clint hit him over and over.

"HE GOT HER KIDNAPPED! HE TOOK HER AWAY FROM ME!"

Natasha grabbed his fist. "Who, Clint?! Who is he?!"

The man grimaced grotesquely through a mouth full of blood. Clint grabbed his face with his free hand.

"He's her brother. Jamie. He is Jamie's brother…and he stabbed her. Tried to kill her. He's HYDRA."

The air was silent save for the wails of sirens and the rain.

"We're taking him. C'mon, we take HYDRA for questioning first."

They roughly pulled David Hennessy to his feet, Natasha and Clint flashed their Avenger membership cards and took an ambulance to the tower. Clint's eyes were as dark Natasha had ever seen them, and it was almost frightening. Natasha called Helen Cho and Tony to explain what was happening.

* * *

Once they reached the tower, they took the service elevator to the medical floor. David was shoved into the large room the physios used. The others were there waiting. Natasha thought Sparky looked so small in what must have been one of Clint zip-ups. She still bore the shook and thin look from her captivity even months after.

"Is it true?" she asked, voice cracking. Her eyes filled with tears. Clint wrenched David's head up to look at Jamie. Her jaw clenched. Clint noticed Steve watching Hennessy warily.

All of a sudden, there was a flash of pale blue and David went flying to the opposite wall, writhing electricity coursed threw him. Hennessey charged toward him and pinned him to the wall by his neck.

"I'll kill you!" she roared and hit him. Hennessy let her brother fall to the ground before painfully grabbing his face.

"You were my brother! And you tried to kill me!" She spoke through angry tears. Natasha went to her as Steve and Wanda followed. Hennessy knelt by David and hissed in his face.

" _They got me because of you. They tortured me. They ripped me apart because of you…"_ Hennessy let out a quiet sob as Natasha knelt beside her.

"I forgot Mam's _smile_ , because of you…" She kicked David in the face as Natasha put a gentle hand around Hennessy's wrists and pulled her to her feet.

"C'mon, Sparky," she said as softly as possible. Steve yanked David up. As Natasha led Hennessy outside, they heard David call after Jamie. His voice was strained through his severely broke nose.

"JAY! I'm sorry, Jay! Please!"

Without turning around Hennessy replied. "Go to hell, ya piece of shit."

* * *

As they exited the room, Jamie roughly pulled away from Natasha and flopped down onto the floor, holding her head in her hands and crying softly. Natasha could not stand to see her friend like this and sat beside her. She threw an arm around Hennessy and pulled her into a kind of hug, one arm around her shoulders, the other holding her head up and away from her hands. Natasha barely noticed Wanda when she came in. however, the Sokovian crouched in front of Hennessy and spoke quietly in English as best she could.

"Please," she said. "I like to help you."

Hennessy sat up and gazed at Wanda with tired, defeated eyes. Wanda stretched out her hands to rest her fingertips on Jamie's temples. Natasha watched as Wanda gained entrance to Hennessy's mind and tried her best to help her regain the memories she'd lost.

They played like a silent film in her mind's eye. Hennessy watched through closed eyes as different memories returned.

She saw herself -much younger- playing soccer with her sister, broad toothy grins on their childish faces. Then the scene changed and she saw her first proper meeting with Clint as he fell through the vent in her ceiling during Basic Training. She saw the sad smile on her mother's lips as her youngest went to college for the first time. Then, at last, she saw the night when Steve, Romanoff, Clint and she played Frisbee with Steve's shield. There was a bright light as she opened her eyes once more. Hennessy was breathless as she returned to reality. Looking around wildly, she backed up to the wall, heart racing. Wanda reached out and took her shoulders as she and Natasha tried to soothe Sparky.

"You- you…?" she choked out, pointing at Wanda. The girl nodded.

"I could not get all that you lost. I am sorry," she said softly.

Hennessy felt as if her throat had closed up. The lump in it threatened her whenever she went to speak. Eventually, she managed to swallow it to thank the girl with extraordinary powers.

"Thank you," was all she managed. "Thank you, Wanda. I owe you," she croaked. Natasha managed the ghost of a smile, as did the young Maximoff.

"You can make it up in a different time, I think," Wanda said quietly. Hennessy, somehow, smirked. Natasha got up and helped Hennessy to her feet.

"C'mon, Irish. You should get some rest."

Wanda walked on Hennessy's other side as she and Natasha escorted her to her room.

Hennessy did not take off Clint's zip up top and instead folded her arms and hugged herself as she sat up in the bed. Wanda and Natasha attempted and eventually succeeded (with Wanda's powers of persuasion) in getting her to lie down. The two other women sat beside Hennessy on the bed until Clint arrived back. He hugged them both and thanked them before climbing in beside Sparky and holding her close. Natasha was only then satisfied that Hennessy would sleep and left, but not before placing a candy bar she had bought the day before on Hennessy's nightstand.

* * *

 **Whaaaat? Two chapters less than a month apart? Could the author possibly be…getting their live together…?**

 **NOPE! But I love you guys, so here you go. I hope you liked this.**

 **What do you think of Davey's reappearance?**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day, night, afternoon, etc…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 ** _Disclaimer_** _ **: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for proof.**_

 **Worse Idea #10 or…**

 **Not Much Worse Idea #2: The Clean-Up**

* * *

Two days later, after Hennessy promised not confront her brother while alone; Natasha prepared to leave the Tower to help the clean-up of the pawn shop demolished by the crash. Dressed in an old hoodie and jacket, she gathered her fiery curls into a ponytail and then hid it underneath her hood. Natasha left with a similarly dressed Clint in tow. When they arrived at the store, there was a crew of construction workers that Stark had appointed and notified working on cleaning up. They briefed Natasha and Clint and assigned them jobs. One bearded worker handed them masks and offered advice.

"Try to avoid any loose fittings, y'know, wires 'n stuff. We don't wanna be the reason two Avengers kick the bucket…"

Clint laughed while Natasha gave a smile. Suddenly, a familiar voice rang out. They turned and saw two figures standing where the threshold once was.

"I know someone who might help with that…" Steve said, smiling crookedly next to an uncharacteristically stony faced Hennessy. A particularly flustered worker led Hennessy away to assist with electrical work at Rogers' instruction, while Steve received gloves and a mask from another worker.

Natasha began working with a group of workers attempting to remove and dispose of collapsed shelves. Clint and Steve were doing the same thing on different walls.

After a while, someone announced that the walls around the window smashed by the car were structurally sound. The workers went to call 'their guy' to tow it away. However, Clint was standing nearby stretching his back while Steve and Natasha worked.

"No, we got it. Ole Cap's just warming up over there. He's got this, Romanoff too."

Steve attempted to frown but could not deny the smile that grew. Natasha chuckled as Steve took up a position to push the car out, eventually she joined him. Clint stood back with the other workers.

"What you're not gonna join the party, Barton?" Steve enquired.

"Nah, man. You and Red have got this. Plus, I'm obviously a better supervisor," Clint replied. Hennessy materialised beside the archer, a slight sly smile on her face. Natasha glanced at Steve, grinning.

"Getting tired, Rogers?" she asked, giving a wink. Steve narrowed his eyes and returned her grin.

"Just push the damn car, Romanoff," he replied. Nat chuckled.

"Someone got out the wrong side of their US flag themed bed sheets this morning."

Steve shook his head and bit his lip. "Give me strength…"

Steve counted them down and they pushed against the hood of the car. Natasha felt the dents Steve's hands made in the car's bonnet as his immense strength was put to use. They pushed the car out of the window frame and onto the street as Clint led the cheers from the workers. Laughing, Steve held up Natasha's arm and pointed to her bicep. Natasha laughed as she thumped him in the stomach and returned to the pawn shop.

* * *

They finished cleaning up the worst of the wreckage just after five o'clock. Clint and Sparky went back to the tower to clean up and then they headed out for dinner. Natasha and Steve returned to the tower together then promptly went their separate rays with Steve muttering something about a 'meeting' with Sharon. Natasha wasn't too bothered though, her main desire was to wash off the dust and dirt. By the time she was sitting in the living area with a book on her lap with her slightly damp hair in its natural waves, the sun had set on New York. Sam was sitting at the bar with his laptop, working on modifications to his wings.

All of a sudden, she heard lumbering footsteps coming down the stairs that led from the quinjet hangar a few floors above her. Sam turned. Natasha stood up, assuming her full 5 feet and 3 inches of height, and turned to the door. Her guess was that a certain former S.H.I.E.L.D. deputy director was in need of assistance. When the door to the staircase opened, her suspicions were confirmed and Maria Hill limped through the door, a hand over her side and blood on her temple. Natasha and Sam were calm, this sort of thing happened quite regularly.

"I hate to barge in like this," Hill began; her raven hair was unkempt and fell in tufts out of her usual up-do. "But I was in a situation and the Tower was closest. Natasha nodded and made to move forward. However, Sam was faster and looped an arm around Hill. The usually stern and solemn Hill leaned into the former para-rescue.

Natasha's mind recalled Darcy's sarcastic 'BFF' remark over Hill and Wilson. They were not incredibly close but had a mutual understanding that Natasha had never seen in Hill before. On the other hand, the spy also noticed the softness in Sam's gaze when his eyes fell on Maria. His brown eyes bore that softness now, as he abandoned the idea of being Hill's crutch and instead picked the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent up.

"I gotcha," he said. Hill huffed but said nothing as she pressed her hand against her bloodstained uniform. Natasha grabbed the paper towels and tore off several sheets and pressed them against Hill's side.

"I'll let the others know, you head down to Dr. Cho. I heard she got a new batch of morphine," Natasha said, the corners of her mouth turning upwards toward the end of her sentence.

Hill gave a tired laced with a laugh. "You're a loser, Romanoff."

Natasha chuckled as Sam turned away with Hill and began walking away.

"Hey! At least I know to avoid the bullets!" she called after them.

Natasha saw Hill's choice hand sign from the opposite end of the corridor. She also saw the hand fall as Hill's head lowered onto the Falcon's shoulder.

* * *

 **Guess what genius decided to use a different laptop instead of waiting for a new charger for their other one! This genius!**

 **Long time, No Chapter! I'm sorry but my tablet with all my stuff ain't working but I'm using a different computer now so…yeah…**

 **Hope you enjoyed this shorter chapter. I love Sam/Maria Hill and I hope you do too!**

 **Let me know what you think!**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc…**

 **Love ya! ;)**


	11. Chapter 11

**Bad Ideas 2: Worse Ideas**

 _ **Disclaimer: I don't own Marvel. Look at AoU for proof.**_

 _ **Worse Idea #11: Sticking Around?**_

* * *

The Avengers, Pepper, Hill and Sparky were all seated around the conference room. The dark sky of the night and the lights of the city below were all visible through the half-wall windows. Maria Hill hobbled in last, having been patched up the previous night, and took her place between Sam and Pepper. Steve was standing at the top of the room.

"Alright, we're here to discuss the best course of action to take with the detainee, David Hennessy. He's ex-HYDRA, or at least he says he is," Steve projected his voice around the room as he spoke, grasping his hands behind his back and standing straight. "Personally, I don't know why HYDRA would allow an operative to leave alive, much less let them wander around New York City."

Natasha appeared, almost from thin air, beside him with a light brown manila folder in her hand. She tossed it gently onto the long, polished table. It slid for a distance before stopping in front of Tony. He picked it up and flicked through the pages. He noted that it was unremarkable, apart from David's connection to Sparky. She was sitting on the left side at the very top of the table and stared at her hands. The file was thin, with little information on David's actual role and involvement with HYDRA. Tony guessed that this was because David's fascist inclinations were only revealed the very minute S.H.I.E.L.D. fell. Stark handed it to Pepper who read it and passed it on to Maria.

"I'd hate to be rude," Tony said, leaning back and raising his hand to his chin. Steve leaned on the table, palms flat. "But what do we know about _him_. What can he do? Is he like Sparky?"

Tony gestured at Hennessy as he spoke. Natasha saw that both she and Barton glanced back. Clint was leaning back slightly, one hand on Hennessy's chair. Jamie was hunched over the table, fidgeting with her hands. Her once light brown hair was now very dark and tied in a ponytail.

"Well, my mom would say yes," Sparky replied sarcastically, prompting a smirk from Clint. She looked down the table at Tony, who's shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows. "No, David is not _enhanced_ \- if that's what you guys want to call it. As for what he can do… I have a lovely scar on my torso and a few on my back that demonstrate his abilities nicely."

Numerous looks and murmurs rippled along the table.

"Look, David once pulled a muscle putting on his socks in the morning. HYDRA must have trained him. I don't know when, or where, but they did," Hennessy stated seriously before resuming hed quiet demeanour and sitting deeper into her seat.

Natasha sat down in an empty chair opposite Clint. "David was a high-flying lawyer who worked with S.H.I.E.L.D. to put away their perps. He was privy to classified information, valuable information."

Clint shifted in his warm leather chair which squealed as he moved. He went red in the face as Hennessy smiled crookedly at him. Clint smiled breathlessly and Hennessy just winked before returning her attention to Natasha. Clint glanced down the table at Sam and Maria. Both were covering their faces with one hand and shaking their heads.

Natasha smirked before clearing her throat. She glanced at Steve, he met her gaze with a small smile.

"Anyway," Steve said, attempting to reign in the supposedly fully grown adults. "We need to figure out what route we should take for the interrogation."

He looked around the table, his blond hair shook as he moved his head and Steve chastised himself for not getting it cut. It was growing too long for his liking, though he was considering a beard.

"Romanoff…" Maria piped up. "I nominate Natasha." Hill shrugged as she spoke. Natasha was emotionless and her expression was the passive look that she had so perfected.

Steve looked around. "Those in favour of Natasha interrogating, raise your hand…"

Everyone in the room raised a hand, Rogers didn't even bother to count.

"That's settled then," he said. "Natasha, you'll interrogate."

Romanoff inclined her head. "Yes, sir."

Steve nodded slightly and seemed to squirm under Natasha's intense green gaze, much to Tony's amusement at the end of the table.

"Well, that's it…I guess…" Steve said, clearing his throat. He glanced at Sparky to his right. She nodded slightly.

"Alright, then. We can all, uhh, disperse," he said awkwardly. Everyone stood up and most left. Clint, Maria, Tony and Hennessy all went to join Steve and Natasha at the top of the room.

Clint and Maria sat on the table while the others stood, arms folded. A sombre mood descended upon them.

"What do we do with him? After all this, where does David go?" Hennessy asked. Steve clenched his jaw. That was the burning question. Maria sighed.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't have any holding site, yet. Technically, we don't even exist. You know I have no great love for 'em but, I recommend handing him over to the C.I.A.," Hill remarked. Natasha nodded.

"I agree. Doesn't make sense to keep him here, at least the Agency can prosecute him," she said. Hennessy pulled out a chair and sat down, letting her gaze fall to the floor.

"When does the questioning start? Are we sure this guy will talk?" Tony asked, shifting from foot to foot. Hennessy laughed somewhat harshly.

"Oh, he'll talk, alright," she said, looking up at the others. "He's never faced Romanoff before, plus, he had obvious tells when he lies. Eye twitches, bounces his leg and stuff. He cracks under pressure."

"You know him well," Steve stated. Hennessy looked at him from under her brow.

"He is my brother after all. I did live with him for twenty years," she said, smiling slightly.

"Twenty years?!" Clint asked incredulously. Sparky shrugged.

"No rent and my mom makes good food. We were tall enough to dust the ceiling corners and reach high shelves. It was a win-win for everyone…" she replied with a smirk. The others chuckled before Natasha spoke.

"We can start questioning today. No use in waiting," she said. Everyone agreed quietly but also looked to Hennessy, as if for permission. She clenched her jaw and swallowed, her expression passive. She nodded stiffly and the group shared a single, solemn look before leaving.

Clint heard something patter on the windows and looked over to see droplets of rain falling over the city that never slept. The drops of water distorted the view of the multi-coloured lights outside.

* * *

Maria yawned as she hobbled into the kitchen downstairs. She saw Sam sitting on the white marble-topped island, laptop open before him and a mug in hand. Maria went to make herself coffee.

"Hey," she greeted tiredly. Sam looked over his shoulder, where the coffee machine was situated.

"Hey," he replied, slightly brighter. "You alright?"

Maria retrieved her mug from the cupboard. "I'm okay. I could do without the headache and bullet wound, to be honest."

Sam laughed as he raised his own mug to his lips. Hill leaned against the counter and rubbed her face as she waited for her coffee to be made. Eventually she could retrieve her steaming mug and sat opposite Sam and his HP laptop.

"So, what you doing?" Maria asked, sipping her black coffee. "Fantasy football league again?" Sam chuckled deeply.

"I do love my fantasy team. But no, I actually happen to be working," he said, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands.

"That missing persons' case of yours again?" Hill asked. Sam looked up and nodded as he closed the lid of his computer. He sighed heavily through his nose and went for a refill.

"Are you any closer?" Maria inquired. She had a lot of sympathy for her friend. He had a tough job in locating the Winter Soldier-otherwise known as James 'Bucky' Barnes. In actual fact, tough was most likely an understatement.

"No, not really," Sam replied dejectedly. He got his coffee and sat back down opposite Maria. They sat in a companionable silence, drinking their warm coffee.

"What about you?" he asked. It was Maria's turn to sigh.

"Ugh. Stressed. Tired. Contemplating an early retirement," she replied, only half-joking. Sam chortled anyway.

"So, nothing new then?" he asked. Maria laughed. It was a sound seldom heard and Sam felt a rush at being able to coax it out of her.

"No, everything's more or less the same. Meeting, then a mission. Then getting shot. Then another meeting," she said dryly. Sam raised a dark eyebrow.

"Sounds fun."

"You've no idea."

Sam set down his mug again and looked at Hill. Her black hair was tied up but wispy strands of hair had fallen free of the up-do. It made her look uncharacteristically tired and casual. Sam gave a small smile.

"You-uhh- sticking around for a while?" he asked, picking at the mug. Maria shifted in her seat, not wanting to let him down.

"Honestly, I don't know. Cho doesn't want me back in the field for a week and now with the David Hennessy situation… I'm just not sure," she replied, glancing at Sam's soulful brown eyes. "If it's any consolation, I hope I am."

Sam gave a lopsided smile. He gazed at her face, Maria's blue eyes standing out instantly.

"I hope so too."

* * *

 **I hope you enjoyed this. Please, please let me know if you did. Also, let me know if you want to see more Sam and Maria, Romanogers and the like.**

 **Thanks for reading,**

 **Have a great day/night/afternoon/etc.…**

 **Love ya!**


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